


The Fate of Four Novelty Mugs

by thesnadger



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Character-Being-Replaced-By-A-Monster, Gen, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, tacky gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnadger/pseuds/thesnadger
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, there are things in charity shops other than sinister books. Tim Stoker, for example, finds a few tacky mugs that he buys as a joke for himself and his coworkers. Tim works in a place of fear, of tunnels and lies and terrible, terrible secrets. But this isn't the story of where Tim works. This is the story of the mugs.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives) & Everyone
Comments: 20
Kudos: 206





	The Fate of Four Novelty Mugs

**Author's Note:**

> Having some weird emotions at this time, as are (no doubt) a lot of people. I was on a walk this morning when this popped almost fully formed into my head. Hope you enjoy it, stay safe, stay healthy, stay inside. 
> 
> (This story is in no way about current events, to be clear. Just written while having some Personal Feelings.)

Not long after he was transferred to the archives, Tim was browsing a charity shop when he came across a display of terrible, tacky coffee mugs.

He was delighted. He spent some time looking through them, snickering at the weirder ones and appreciating them greatly, if only ironically. It occurred to him that the little kitchenette in the break room at work didn’t have much when it came to dishes. There were a couple of grubby plates and one large, gray mug with a chip in its rim. But everyone knew that mug had been Gertrude Robinson’s and no one was willing to touch it. Tim and Sasha had joked about it being haunted by the old woman’s ghost. But they didn’t use it either, so the joke was on them, he supposed.

Why not, he thought, picking out a mug for himself and for each of his coworkers, all of them exceptionally awful. His said “Over 65 and Still Sexy!” in pink bubble letters. Martin’s was oddly shaped with a black and white pattern like that of a Jersey cow and an awful three-dimensional udder sticking out of the side. Sasha’s had a picture of Garfield the cat scowling under the words “Don’t Talk To Me Before I’ve Had My Coffee.” Jon’s was red and green striped, with “I Believe In Santa Claus!” scribbled merrily over the image of a smiling, cartoon Saint Nick.

He brought them to work wrapped in newspaper and presented them to their new owners. Sasha laughed loudly when she saw hers. Martin thanked him with a level of sincere gratitude that Tim thought was a little much for a 75p gag gift. Jon looked at his skeptically and thanked him without even trying to sound sincere, which was exactly what Tim had expected.

Gifts given without much thought, kept in a quiet little room in a building full of secrets. This is what happened to each of them.

Tim’s was lost during the Prentiss attack. It slipped from his hand when Sasha tackled him to safety and was broken against the wall. No one noticed it at the time, and Tim had other things on his mind afterwards. It was swept up along with thousands of dead worms.

Not-Sasha drank from Sasha’s mug at every opportunity, taking its tea with milk and sugar exactly the way Sasha hadn’t. Some time after Not-Sasha vanished and Tim came to understand what it was, he found the mug left forgotten on the counter. There was a tea bag inside it, dried up and stuck to the side. He smashed it on the floor and walked away without cleaning up.

Martin had always liked his. He’d liked all of them, really. It made him happy, knowing everyone had these silly little things Tim had picked out for them. It made things more homey, made the archive staff feel like more of a team, or something like that. Even after the cabinet started to fill with other cups and dishes that people brought from home, he used his a lot. He became more careful with it after the Unknowing. It reminded him of Tim, and keeping it from being lost or broken felt important in a way that Martin couldn’t put into words.

In time he agreed to work with Peter Lukas, who eyed that particular mug disapprovingly whenever he saw it on Martin’s desk. Eventually, Martin sighed, washed it thoroughly, and donated it to the same charity shop Tim had bought it from. He replaced it with a plain, blue thing purchased from an impersonal big box store. Peter approved.

Jon had always hated his, as Tim had known he would. Save for when Martin brought tea in it, Jon’s mug mostly sat unused in the back of the cabinet, pointedly ignored. He spotted it there a week or so after returning from the hospital, after the coma. Seeing it put a mournful smile on his face. Tim used to do things like that, he thought, back when things were simpler. Buy everyone stupid little joke gifts, or give the woman at the deli counter names like “Count Dracula” and “Grumpy Cat” when he went on a lunch run so that all the sandwiches came back labeled that way. Jon realized he even missed the way that Tim would imitate the tone he used while reading statements when he thought Jon wasn’t listening. The Unknowing had ended Tim forever, but he’d stopped laughing a while before then.

The second Jon touched the mug he knew its previous owner had died from falling down the stairs in his home. He knew exactly how long it had taken the man to die, and that the nephew who’d boxed up and given away most of his things had never really cared about him. Jon used it anyway, kept it around as a little piece of something that was gone now. He felt silly, not because it was an absurd-looking thing or because it seemed out of place on his desk. (Though it did, certainly -- sitting there being defiantly ridiculous in a room filled with horror and grief.) He felt silly because he was trying to connect to a man who had died hating him by using a gift that he had never really appreciated.

It was eventually scooped up by a police officer that had been sent to clean up after the final attack on the archives. It was placed, along with everything else in Jon’s office, in one of several large cardboard boxes that were sealed with packing tape. Due to an understanding he had with the chief of police, the boxes were taken to a storage locker owned by Elias Bouchard, where they would sit and wait for the end of absolutely everything.

People plan, events fall into place as the world draws closer to terrible change. In the background, a silly unimportant thing is lost. And few if any really notice.


End file.
